 |
The hand of fate seems to leave Cesare Bruno totally unconcerned, the very same applies to any sort of arbitrary inquiries tending to uncover the deepest soul of his emblematic characters, whom he codifies and portrays as chairs. No mistery involved, but sheer logic, the spell is simply subjected to a never—ending maze of lines, spaces, colours and geometrical figures. It could very well be that in Cesare Bruno ’s eyes, we are nothing but fossils, mere objects. Maybe the Universe in his own conception is just a palette filled with abstract rage, a planet of segments, a stiff world of frozen gestures. It is however an undisputable fact that his paintings do bring upfront a great deal of criticism shrouded in some sort of shy obsession, enough to off—balance all kinds of suspicions. As they say, it is not us who are afraid. Fright is inside somebody else ’s eyes... The emblematic chair-man, either alone or blinded by madness (which is nothing but another form of loneliness) as well as roaming the infinite meanders of this world, is in Cesare Bruno’s view the very last visible trace on the map of existentialism. An ever-changing shape, alien to any sort of constriction whatsoever, lightning-fast in crossing boundaries with cromatic escapes and ever-standing in its posture. He bends, but he doesn’t break, he shows up over and over again. It is a game, mastered by Bruno amidst Borgesian mirrors, whereby Borges seems uncapable to make a choice between himself and the reflected image, perhaps even more real than the prototype itself. However, it is due to this very game that snow and squares, flats and cathedrals, crossroads and different perspectives eventually do not touch Cesare Bruno’s emblem, they can ’t possibly submerge it. Even Pitagora invented by playing.
(Giovanni Arpino, Inventing by playing, La Nuova Albertina, Turin, 3-30 April 1975)
|
|
